Lately, the universe has been breaking my rules.
What could be cooler than a yoga class with black lights, glow sticks, Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, and The Wizard of Oz? My husband, Vida, even agreed to come along. According to his rules, these unconventional classes are the only way I can get him to yoga. We were discussing on the way what we expected from the class. Of course, there would be lots of slow and gentle movement so that we could watch the movie and enjoy the fun. I was just hoping it would not be too gentle as it counted for my workout for the day.
When we walked into the room, I had to reign in my panic as at least 40 yogis were packed wall to wall with their mats touching. The MATS WERE TOUCHING. Not only could I not spread my arms, I would actually have to share breathing space. If Vida weren't there, I probably would have run. You know, a gentle, sneaky, graceful yogi sprint.
As I looked around at all the rippling muscles and flat abs, realizing that I was probably the heaviest person in the class, I also noticed that the room was unusually warm. On purpose. Hot air was gushing from the vents. I said "uh oh" and explained to Vida that this just might be "hot yoga," meaning it would likely be a little more of a workout than we anticipated. I planted myself on my mat, trying to burrow underground in my mind, and just kept breathing, deciding to ride this out, mentally chaining myself so my body wouldn't betray me and start running.
"Hey yogis, please skooch a little closer, we need to fit five more people in,"cooed the lithe, supermodel yoga teacher.
I wanted to scream, "MY RULES ARE BEING BROKEN! THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE!" as I improved my mile time on the journey out. Instead I mentally crawled under my mat and hung on.
The class was immediately challenging as the pace picked up and the postures grew harder and faster. I was surprised to find that I loved it. Sharing the breathing space with the others, feeling the energy in the room pick up, knowing that all those fit people were sweating and breathing hard just like me. I felt strong, graceful. Just when I thought it was winding down and my muscles were shaking, it just kept going and going. FOR TWO HOURS. Later, the teacher commented, "Oh, that was the extended version of the movie, I didn't know that." Another surprise for all of us from the universe. There were even times where we had to "put your hand on your neighbors back for balance" and even hold hands - an absolute breaking of my yoga personal space rule. But it was great.
Finally, completely spent in savasana on the mat, I smiled and sent prayers of gratitude, glowing with amaizngness when a completely unexpected version of Somewhere Over the Rainbow played, sung by my favorite artist, Tori Amos. It was perfection. And I lost two pounds overnight.
If I had followed my rules, I would have missed out on this completely.
Later the same weekend, Vida and I were registered to run a 5K at the local high school. I had been vigilantly checking the weather, dismayed that it would be only 42 degrees. Way below my threshold and colder than I've ever run in, but I decided it would be okay.
When we woke up, it was 23 degrees instead. "Nope." I said, "there's no way this is happening." I remembered my doctor telling me at age 10 never to go outside without a scarf over my mouth under 40 degrees because it was bad for my sinuses. I imagined the razor-cold air forcing me into immediate pneumonia. What normal human being would do this? No one would fault me for backing out, I didn't HAVE to do this, I hadn't even told many people about it. My world would not be adversely affected except for having to do my planned 3 miles on the boring treadmill.
Vida started playing Rocky music and telling me that "Rocky didn't worry how cold it was while running over mountains in Russia." I looked at him like he'd just asked me to try a bite of a fluffy bunny and said rather eloquently that I "didn't give an F what Rocky would do," I could be warm in my bed. But I couldn't get back under the covers. For one, Vida looked like he was going to the race that was my idea without me. But also, there was something inside me that wasn't actually going to let me out of it. So I got dressed.
When we arrived, everyone seemed to be a high school student or an athlete. I again realized that "normal people" don't run races in frigid temperatures. The fear came that everyone would be faster and I would be running alone and get lost on the course. Again that I would die from breathing icicles. The race director cautioned us all to watch our step for ICE. But I decided to just start running and not stop and not worry about anything else.
Immediately upon starting, breathing ice cold air sucked. It hurt. My nose started dripping uncontrollably (thank God for gloves and long sleeves.) Seemingly everyone did run past me, continuously. My headphones broke and I could hardly hear Eye of the Tiger. But I just kept going. Eventually, I got used to the air and the snot stream. I found my steady pace and even passed a walker or two (who later passed again when they sped up.) Vida had been in a heat behind me and he eventually pulled up beside me, again making me consider that I might be the slowest person who ever ran. Together we put one foot in front of the other, chasing the teenagers and rasping on ice. My legs wanted to stop, but we charged into the stadium, finally making the last lap to finish.
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| Not my most glamorous finish... |
So I've found that there is joy in breaking the rules. There is pride in digging way deeper than my comfort zone and discovering pieces of myself that are way stronger than I ever imagined.
I will no longer let fear make my decisions for me. Bring it on!
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